


+t steffifan

by magicalballerinaprincess



Category: Kiwi Blitz, Sleepless Domain (Webcomic)
Genre: AU, Gen, and bullying, but they aren't majorly explored or anything, gear is a little bapy, just mentioned, minor tigger warnings for self harmish thoughts, she can't change this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-26 15:18:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19008445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicalballerinaprincess/pseuds/magicalballerinaprincess
Summary: Team Blitz is not very popular, by any means. Commonly regarded as the chumpiest of chumps, they honestly don't even need Ben as their manager because there's hardly anything to manage. Until a cruel and troubled girl who wants something finds it in them.Inspired by a tag on the sleepless domain discord, and owes its heart to GKChris. Love you, dude. https://i.imgur.com/VnEbki5.png





	+t steffifan

Margaret did not have very much, missing (among other things) a mother, a father, and a left side. In fact, the things she did have could be counted on one hand:

 

-her right side

-some adults she hated

-classmates who hated her

-a cool eyepatch. 

 

She counted those things again, on her fingers, which still looked too small and babyish to be hers. She couldn't afford to be anything like a little girl anymore, resemble something small and helpless in the slightest way. Still needed something for that last finger, though. It was almost a morning ritual, by this point. She could pick things up with her left hand, but the wonders of modern science didn’t extend far enough to make it look like a hand. More like... graduated tongs. She clacked them together;  _ clack, clack _ , her elbow joint  _ whirr _ ing reassuringly. A little reminder that she wasn’t quite human, not anymore. And if her classmates used her inhumanness as proof she was a monster beyond redemption, well, let them. She didn’t care what they thought. 

 

The house was so quiet. Even she was quiet when her metal foot hit the floorboards, the noise unable to fill in the space. One thing you learn after losing a foot: toes are largely irrelevant, in the grand scheme of a body. She could probably cut off the rest of them and sell them for a dollar each. That’d be five dollars. She could get a candy bar. Two, even.

 

Speaking of food! Breakfast.

 

The best days were always Saturdays; if she woke up late, she didn’t have to talk to anyone, and they’d be out until the sun glared straight down at the earth, shadows pooling underneath objects like puddles. Four hours to do whatever she wanted, and what she wanted was to be alone. 

 

She less walked, more wandered through dim hallways and paintings towering above her, into the kitchen, where she was greeted with a mess. Cereal boxes and bowls were strewn in various places, mostly on the table, but sometimes on counters. The tv rambled, breaking the silence Margaret loved so dearly. Couldn’t a grown up clean up after themselves before leaving for their stupid dance class? Wasn’t that their job?

 

The tv rattled off events like someone cared. “Now it’s time for today’s Daylight Update! Surprisingly enough,” an announcer said in a too-cheery voice, “Team Blitz formed a new combo attack last night. It’s a good thing we decided to keep an eye on them!”

 

They also didn’t have her favorite cereal out. Tch. If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. 

 

Sadly, being seven years old had its issues, especially when you were barely four feet tall. Margaret put her hands experimentally on the counter. “Techno Blitz discovered her powers can be enhanced by Pop Blitz’s electricity powers!” Yeah yeah, whatever. There was important business happening over here.

 

She jumped, and flopped on the counter, kicking her legs wildly before she found her balance. Then some more kicking and flopping as she wiggles herself all the way on the counter instead of halfway on. She felt her knee hit the edge, rolled over, and sat up.  _ Yes. _ She did that about as gracefully as a dead fish, but gosh dang it she was up there! Upper cupboard, face your maker. 

 

She did take a second to look down at the world from her advanced, adult height in triumph. One day she’d be this big, and the best part about being big was that no one got to make you feel small ever again.

 

Getting the cereal box took a little standing on tip toes, but victory was a sweet, sweet honey. She didn’t need a bowl, right? It would be fine. Professional goblin in the house, here. 

 

“So, Pop Blitz,” the reporter said, light and easy. Margaret wasn’t listening. She was preoccupied with sticking as many cereal loops as she could on her prongs before eating them like a shishkebab instead of pouring out a bowl like a reasonable person. The process was not a neat one, and required careful attention. “Are you going to tell us how you really lost your leg this time?”

 

The sentence stopped Margaret mid crunch. 

 

“Hmm.” Pop Blitz put a hand to her chin in fake consideration. 

 

_ Lost her leg lost her leg lost her leg lo _

 

“I fell in a shark tank when I was three,” she said, solemnly. Margaret held on to every word. 

 

“That wasn’t as good as the last story. A saber toothed tiger? Come on, you can’t top that.”

 

“Don’t patronize me!” Pop Blitz yelled, offended. “It was a...” she stifled a laugh. “Very tragic... event,” she choked out, before dissolving into giggles. Her hair was so pink.  _ That’s a happy color,  _ Margaret thought, watching Pop’s weird curls shake as she lost it.  _ But not as good as my light blue _ . “I still can’t believe you bought the first story I made up,” she hacked up between breaths and laughing fits. “People spent three weeks thinking my dad bred  _ bioluminescent crocodiles _ in our basement!”

 

“He is a weird guy, I wouldn’t put it  _ beyond  _ him...”

 

“Not  _ that _ weird!”

 

Margaret’s head was reeling. There was something with saving in every magical girl. There was something worth saving in a girl without a leg. 

She held the cereal box so tightly it crumpled.  _ There’s got to be something worth saving in me.  _

 

And Margaret sat there, absorbing every word, even when they shifted to the other girl’s on the team who weren’t anywhere near as interesting, only giving up when they focused on girls who were more valuable than some chump. 

 

From that day forth, Steffi Frolich had one fan. Margaret devoted her whole life to her, like her throat being slit; just that fast, that fatal. She made her lego shrines and hid pink octopi plushies under her bed. She scoured the whole city for Team Blitz merch, unsuccessfully. She thought of meeting her hero constantly; she would love her instantly and be the best of friends, one would be haughty and shun them while the other would love her anyway. No one knew. Vulnerabilities were best kept to one’s self, and Margaret knew better than to advertise her weaknesses. But she had something to put on that last finger, now. 

 

Margret had a secret, and it kept her alive. 


End file.
